The depth of your deception has yet to be revealedyour heart sealedyour field of operationsa silent bloody blend
of sophisticated curtsies, smiling innuendoesand sly knifings in the back.

Your mother said you were a liarbut, even she could not know how far you would aspire
how many desiring hearts you would cuthow many fires would burn in your wakehow manipulation could shake things upyou bending so low in seeming supplicationonly to turn the tables, upending
even the most guileless victim.Your so called immaturitybut putting a blind eye to your better sideall the better to slide into dark treacherya game learned at mother's knee
free from responsibility, now grown wild.